When I Am Dreaming
by emerald isle
Summary: When Lord Vader closes his eyes, Anakin Skywalker awakens.


The hearts and heads of humans are most responsible for leading them astray, and yet they are the very organs that make humans who they are.

By this definition, Lord Vader was still a man, and all men must sleep.

Even the Emperor overlooked the significance of the act of sleep. By indulging in such a necessity, Lord Vader only established his own mortality, for it was in sleep that all barriers could be broken.

It happened every night, beginning as sooon as Vader let his eyelids fall. The tiny candleflame sputtering courageously away in his heart would catch the inky darkness off guard. As his consciousness weakened, so would his stubborn insistence on forgetting to remember; slowly, steadily, insistently, the candle flame would grow and spread until every darkened, deserted corner of his memories was suffused with the soft glow of goodness.

Every night, Anakin Skywalker was resurrected.

(&)

Vader was not yet strong enough to acknowledge Skywalker. He preferred to ignore that brave little light in his heart; he felt safer hiding in the dark void that was his naivete. Strange, how this man - this slaughterer of children and planets and hope - could be naive. But somehow, he was.

It was this innocence, buried beneath all the guilt of the Dark Side, that saved him.

And it began in slumber.

(&)

In the beginning, he only reached a faded gray place, an in-between where Skywalker was a mere mist in the pain-laden air. His sleep was not deep enough for images, not yet, but when the air stirred around him, sometimes he would hear it: soft murmurings, like the purr of a kitten; low and content, even though it is about to be drowned.

(&)

After a year of this, Lord Vader fell asleep and found that the heavy fog had cleared. It was empty now, only sweet darkness; it was black like suffering, black like space, black like the Emperor's heart.

It was the first comfort he had felt since he had turned, this abyss. Comfort from what, he did not yet know; Skywalker was not bright enough yet to make him undrestand. Still, this feeling - so strange, so soft in his hard heart - helped the little candle shine a bit brighter.

And that little brightening, that single strengthening of those courageous rays, helped the purring to form words. One night, one terrible night, Skywalker whispered his way into Lord Vader's mask... into Lord Vader's mind...

(&)

_Angel_, Skywalker translated, relaying messages from a world long gone. _My love._

(&)

Lord Vader woke sweating that night.

(&)

And so it went. Lord Vader would enter the comforting darkness, the escape, and relish in those messages, which he did not understand but which somehow caressed him. For months, the candle was only strong enough to speak to him. But with time, and great effort, the candle grew.

And then came the final battle.

(&)

Deep sleep did not come right away; for some reason, Lord Vader was restless. After hours, he finally drifted into the darkness, only to find that the darkness had left him, and with it, the murmurings. He searched through the fog, aching with what he did not recognize as need. Desire.

Love.

That's when the images arrived.

(&)

A beautiful world. Fresh and green and perfect, not yet raped of its innocence like the rest of the galaxy.

A beautiful sky, wide and welcoming with promises of freedom and youth.

And a beautiful woman.

(&)

The candle was not a candle any longer. It was a sun, a star, an overwhelming cloud of triumph.

(&)

_Ani. My Anakin. I lived for you, I died for you. You died too, that day._

_Live, my love. Awaken and live._

_Live and let me._

(&)

The flames pulsed and roared, screaming and tearing. Anakin flowed through Lord Vader's very veins, crying out with love and goodness and strength from yesteryears.

Lord Vader's mind was numbed by the sheer brightness of that little candle. The images burned at his eyes and the voice poured into his ears, until he sobbed in his sleep.

Victory was so close; the taste of it filled Lord Vader's mouth, the sound of it roared in his lobes.

But it was not yet to be.

(&)

"Lord Vader. _Rise._"

And then he woke.

His eyes opened behind their mask, and he found himself buried in the silence, the darkness, the forgetfulness.

He was buried in the Dark Side.


End file.
